


Drinking Problem

by Alyrianna



Series: The Lion and His Bumbling Bookworm [1]
Category: Warcraft (2016)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7307167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyrianna/pseuds/Alyrianna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lothar doesn’t believe him men when they tell him Khadgar drank them all under the table during the last meeting at the Lion’s Pride Inn on their night off. He had sent him with the group to try to loosen up when he wasn’t around, and now they try to tell him little, innocent Khadgar can hold down 20 full cups? Well, there was only one thing to do then. Challenge Khadgar to a drinking contest that night and see if his men were lying.</p><p>The beginning of 'The Lion and His Bumbling Bookworm' series</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drinking Problem

**Author's Note:**

> So I was writing my little one-shots and ficlets, without realizing it, in the same head cannon universe.
> 
> I have decided to start compiling them into one large series of works of the timeline of Khadgar and Lothar's relationship.
> 
> This is a bit of a starter to the whole series, and kicks off the stary of their deep friendship.
> 
> Enjoy!

Khadgar sighed as he lay down the papers he was reading and rubbed his eyes. It was only mid-afternoon, but he was already tired. He had been studying these notes left in the Guardian’s study for days and didn’t seem to be getting anywhere.

“Hey, bookworm!”

The loud exclamation followed by the bang of the door to his room sent the mage right out of his chair, stumbling to regain his footing when he tripped on one of its legs.

“L-Lothar! What do I owe the pleasure?” Khadgar stumbled over his words, subtly trying to fix his tunic and running his hand through his disheveled hair to try and right it. He knew he wasn’t the old man’s type- type being women- but he still felt the flutter of butterflies in his stomach whenever he was alone with him.

“Get cleaned up, or whatever it is you do. We’re going drinking.” Lothar began to walk calmly around the room, studying random knickknacks on the shelves. 

“What?” He blinked a few times in confusion, waiting barely a moment before asking, “Why?”

“I have heard an interesting rumor about you, little spell-chucker. From my own men no less. Did you really drink _all_ of my men under the table the other night?” Lothar turns towards him, piercing him with an incredulous stare.

Khadgar groans and wipes a hand over his face. So that’s what this was all about. He never should have let that happen. He knew it wasn’t going to be let go that easily by someone- of course that ‘someone’ had to be Lothar.  
“Yes, I did. They wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“So you out drank ten of my best officers? You?” Lothar smirked at him, as if the idea was a particularly amusing one.

Khadgar felt heat rise to his face and ears at the look.

“I’m not a child, Lothar. I am capable of doing things, as your soldier found out. Why do you keep insisting on treating me like I’m a boy who still needs coddling?”

He knew his words sounded _exactly_ like a whiny and petulant child to his own ears as he crossed his arms defiantly, embarrassment making his ears even turn red, but he didn’t care. He wanted the other man to see him as he was- a strong, capable man and mage who could hold his own in a variety of fields. Even if he never gained the other man’s affections, he at least wanted his repect.

“Well, I mean- really. Look at you. You maybe three ounces dripping wet? And you just seem so- well, innocent. Have you even drank before? What did you do to my men to make them cover for you, really?”

Khadgar was starting to see red.

“I didn’t do a damn thing to them expect beat their asses fair and square at their own game! At least they finally respect me. I have gone on how many missions with you, and you still treat me like this? Ridiculous! If you can’t accept that I am capable of things you don’t know, then just leave.”

Khadgar threw up his hands in disgust and turned away, but was quickly stopped by a hand on his arm. Lothar turned the young mage around to face him, regret on his features.

“I didn’t mean to make you angry, or make you think I didn’t respect you. You are a great mage, with the capability to be so much more, and you have many hidden talents I’m sure. But even you can see where this particular one seems a bit unbelievable don’t you? I mean, some people tend to never meet a mage in their lifetime, and if they do they tend to be stuffy, self-centered pricks. You aren’t but…”

Lothar furrow his brow and sighed exasperatedly, “Look, this is starting to come out wrong and-”

“No, _really?_ Seriously Lothar, just shut up while your ahead and I don’t hate you for the moment.” He huffed, pulling his arm out of the other man’s grip.

“Make me.”

Khadgar blinked for a moment, stunned at the words, as his thoughts went down so far into the gutter they made the Dwarves mines seem shallow. “I-I’m sorry? What?”

Lothar leaned in closer, and Khadgar could swear the other man’s voice got lower as his piercing blue eyes stared into his own.

“Make me shut up. Come with me to the Lion’s Pride tonight and make me eat my words, and I won’t ever tease you about something like this again.”

It took a moment to register his words, the butterflies from earlier going crazy as he noticed _just how close_ Lothar’s chest and lips were. He could feel the Lion’s breath on his lips, which made his own hitch.

“Uh. Um. Sure. Good. When are we going?”

With a predator’s grin, Lothar backed away from Khadgar, and started sauntering towards the door.

“Right now, kid.”

Heat flaming up in his face and neck again, Khadgar ran to pull on his boots.

_Damn that man!_

* * *

A short time later, nestled by himself into one of the cozier booth of The Lion’s Pride Inn, Khadgar wondered how he got himself into this damn situation, _again._

It’s those damn blue eyes of his. And how he always smells of leather and sweat and summer. And how his damn brain shuts down on him at the seriously most _inconvenient_ of times.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think the older man knew how he affected Khadgar in every way and used that against him.

He snorted quietly to himself. Lothar might be observant on a battlefield, but not in matters of the heart. His secret was safe.

In the midst of his contemplation, he didn’t notice Lothar approach, and proceeded to jump about a foot in the air when four flagons of what smelled like the barkeeps strongest ale were slammed onto the table.

“Are you ready, kid?” Lothar grinned, self-assuredly, and sat down across from him. His eyes were twinkling with mischief.

“I told the barmaid tonight to keep us going with rounds. Time to live up to your words.”

Khadgar smiled, and he knew it must have looked demonic from the look Lothar gave him in response. He took the first flagon and drained it swiftly and without flinching, and the second followed the same fate as the other. 

Slowly licking the foam off his upper-lip fuzz, he replied,

“No, time to live up to yours.”

* * *

After a few hours, and about twenty-two flagons of the same drink, Khadgar **_really_** had to pee. 

Lothar wouldn’t let him leave earlier to relieve himself, however, until the contest was over, in case of cheating. Khadgar had balked at the idea the other man would accuse him of cheating, but understood, and stayed.

It didn’t look like he would need to worry about it much longer though, with how Lothar currently was.

The poor Lion had been thoroughly done in about three drinks ago, but refused to give up, even with the fact he couldn’t even hold his head up with how drunk he was.

The soldiers, the ones Khadgar had soundly beat just as bad, if not worse, had come by earlier and tried to talk their commander out of continuing with it, but he didn’t want to heard a word of it.

They stayed until now, but even they could see how soundly beaten Lothar was when Khadgar ‘s speech was a little bit slurred and he was obviously dizzy, but was still upright and drinking. 

One of them, he couldn’t remember her name- only that she was one of the last to give up last time, came over and clapped a hand on his shoulder. She looked at her commander in pity.

“Do you want us to take him back? I know how bad he can get when he’s this drunk.”

He waved he off, and assured her, his words slurring here and there.

“No. No. I got him. It’s the leasht I can do after all thish. I’ll make sure he getss back and tucked warm into bed.”

She gave him an all too knowing smile for his comfort, and saluted him goodbye, as the rest of her unit followed them out of the Inn.

Lothar was still half-awake and partially drooling on the table, and Khadgar was about to get up and help him up to get him back to the castle when the barmaid strode over. She shook her head, brown locks of hair twirling around a pale face, at the two of them, and he realized he recognized her from the last contest with the soldiers.

“You would think they would know to not ‘ta challenge you after last time. I’ve been giving him water pints for the past four cups. Take him home- ‘afore he makes more of a fool of his self.”

He light farmers accent that was common around the area was colored with the exasperated affection of an employee used to seeing a regular in such a state. She deftly snatched the mug out of Lothar’s fingers, along with the others on the table and sauntered off.

Khadgar pulled himself upright using the table, giving himself a moment to gauge his steadiness. His legs held firm, and he reached over to grab his cloak he had dropped on the chair earlier before helping the other man up into his arms. Lothar stood, for the most part, on his own, but the one arm that was slung over his shoulders was leaning heavily on him.

“They should re-name you from ‘The Lion’. You’re as heavy as one, though not as fierce. Maybe ‘Gumpy Old Tom Cat’ would suit you better.” Khadgar grumbled as he helped the man through the front of the bar and out the door into the fresh air. Lothar just grunted back at him, the alcohol in his system obviously too much for coherent words.

He looked around for a moment, before realizing with a start that they had walked here. Smart move, he thought sarcastically, when you live at the castle and want to visit a bar outside the city’s gate.  
He lifted the man a bit higher onto his shoulders, huffing with effort at holding the heavier man up. He was going to have to port them. There was nothing for it. He hated doing magic drunk but he was pretty sure he could get them back in one piece. Sort of sure.

He knew he couldn’t do it the easy way and write the runes on the ground with how Lothar was leaning on him, so he gathered up is his magic inside him and released it outwards, creating the familiar cage of blue light around them both. He had the momentary though of being so happy he had been practicing doing spells this way, as he pulled on the light clenched in his palm, and ported them both.

* * *

When his vision cleared, they were standing in the center of his room, where he had cleared a large space specifically for porting, while papers that were disturbed from the port fluttered softly around them to the floor. Lothar sagged lower on his shoulders, muttering something about feeling sick, and hating mage portals. Khadgar would normally have reacted more strongly to Lothar’s statement of being sick, not wanting to make a mess in his room, but he urgently needed to find the neared chamber pot. He rather unceremoniously laid Lothar down on the floor and make for the drape-covered corner of the room in a hurry.

A few moments later, he reappeared, and felt his eyes widen in shock and fear when he realized Lothar wasn’t on the floor where he left him.

He scanned the room quickly, and let out a sigh of relief when he realized Lothar had somehow gotten himself on Khadgar’s bed (without getting sick, he noted)- even managing to pull off one of his boots before he must have blacked out.

The older man was snoring rather loudly, face buried in the soft blankets under his face. He was too tired and drunk for this, and Lothar was too heavy to try and carry back to his room in his state. Khadgar shrugged, and went over to him, removing Lothar’s other boot and leather tunic before tucking the covers in around him. He blushed at removing the other man’s clothes and touching him in such an intimate way, but figured Lothar wouldn’t mind in this one instance. Not that he would even remember it with his current mental state.

He went to the other side of the bed and stripped to his underclothes, and it wasn’t until he was under the covers that the reality of the situation fully hit him in a rush of breath.  


Anduin Lothar, _The Lion of Stormwind,_ was in his bed.

Not in the way he really wanted, of course, but damn it was close enough for his filthy mind. He felt his body respond without meaning to, and his blush from before turned into a blanket of red across his neck, face and ears.

Not wanting to spoil the memories he would have of this moment for later, he steadfastly ignored his body’s response and forced himself to relax, taking in everything about the moment he could remember.  


The last things his eyes saw before they closed were the gentle fluttering of Lothar’s lashes on his upper cheek as he continued to snore loud enough to wake the dead.

* * *

Khadgar woke the next morning feeling very, _very_ warm.

He nuzzled his face into his warm, firm pillow for a few moments, before he realized it wasn’t a pillow at all- but a shoulder. A rather muscled shoulder, attached to a semi-awake Lion of Azeroth, who was looking at him with a face of pure confusion.

“Khadgar? What the- Am I dreaming?”

Khadgar filed that statement away for later as he untangled his limbs quickly from the man beside him, the blush from the night before making a reappearance when he realize he had a rather prominent problem, which he hurried to cover, lest Lothar notice.

“Good morn, Lothar. I’m sorry for this- I- We- Nothing happened! I just brought you back here last night to sleep off your drinks.” He stumbled over almost every words, and felt like a child with how foolish he sounded. ‘Nothing happened’? Of course it didn’t! Lothar was about as straight as one of the columns in the Stormwind castle throne room.

“Nghhh- My head. What happened? Where am I?” Khadgar didn’t really have to worry about the older man noticing much in his state, as he brought a hand up to his face to scrub at his bleary eyes and press against his temples.

“You took me drinking last night at the Lion’s Pride to see if the rumors of me out-drinking your men were true. I naturally drank you under the table, and then dragged your sorry ass back here to my room to sleep it off, because I am a kind and generous friend.” Khadgar relaxed a bit, realizing his friend’s hangover from the previous night’s drinking would help him in this rather awkward situation.

“Err yea I remember most of that, but-“ 

He paused for a moment, tongue running over his teeth.

“Did you drug me or something? You must have used a spell or something since there’s no way you out drank me last night.”

So much for the hangover making him easier to deal with. Khadgar felt the anger from their original conversation flooding back to him, and turned his head away-feeling the burn of unshed tears in his eyes- and spat out,

“Well if you think I am so untrustworthy to have done that to someone I _thought_ was my friend, you can get your things and leave immediately, thank you. We had an agreement Lothar, and you lost. I didn’t think the great and mighty ‘Lion of Azeroth’ was such a sore loser.”

All possible embarrassment and excitement had vanished in a minute, leaving him feeling tired, upset and angry. He really had thought he was beginning to make headway with this man in friendship and respect and he just spit on all of it with one sentence.

“Now I am going to try and get more sleep, so if you would please leave quietly. I have to gather my energy to move my things back to Kharazan later today and I need to be rested.”

He knew he was being petty, but if Lothar was going to treat him like this, when he had pretty much only stayed in Stormwind in these sparse, temporary quarters to be close to the older man, then he saw no reason to stay. When there was only silence for a moment, he looked back, swiping angrily at the wetness on his eyes and cheeks.

Lothar was looking at him intently, with a mixture of surprise, seriousness and a trace of something he couldn’t place.

“No. Khadgar. I am sorry. That was low of me, and rude. You won fair and square last night and had the care to bring me back and graciously tend to me after. Most wouldn’t do that much, even for a friend.’

He took a breath, sitting upright and set his hand on Khadgar’s naked shoulder, drawing a shudder from the other man which he hoped he was able to mask as a shake from chill.

Lothar smiled a wry smile, and continued, voice low and sad.

“Are you really going to leave? I know everyone in the castle and city feels safer with the new Guardian living in the castle, and you would be sorely missed. We have much use of you here, and I no one wants you to fall into the same lonely existence that Medivh did. You are free to go and please as you wish, but I know that- well- I would prefer it if you stayed.”

His face was sad, but his blue eyes were piercing into his own, and Khadgar caved under that stare.

“No. I won’t leave.” He mumbled, turning his head down to inspect the edge of the blanket absentmindedly. 

“Someone has to keep you from drowning yourself in your mugs and sleeping on bar floors, I suppose.”

The blush was back again. Damn the betrayal of his own body!

Lothar moved his hand off his shoulder and tilted his head up with the tip of one finger to look him in the eyes again. He was smiling, genuine and happy.

“Good. Someone has to save me from myself, like you said, with Llane and Medivh not here anymore.” His eyes were sad for a moment, but brightened again mischievously.

“I’ll have to talk to Taria about getting you set up in your own rooms then. You can’t stay in this tiny room forever. “ He turned towards his side of the bed and began to pull his boots on.

“Though right now I am going down to the healers and getting something for this damn headache and some food. Would you like to join me?”

Khadgar smiled, slipping out of bed and grabbing for his clothes. “I’d love to. Maybe Chef has some of those honey treats he knows I like in the pantry! He said he would start making them more often since I loved them so much.”

Lothar chuckled at the mage’s apparently insatiable sweet tooth, and finished pulling on his tunic.

When both men were dressed and cleaned up for the day they both turned to head out the door. Lothar stopped Khadgar with a quick movement of his arm, turning him around trapping him against the wall next to the door and looked at the mage in the face, searching for something.

Khadgar couldn’t breathe. It was like the night before, only worse. He could feel Lothar’s hand next to his head and the laces of his tunic brushing up against his shirt.

“My name is Anduin. Only my sister and my close friends really call me that anymore, but I would like it if you did.”

Khadgar breathed- in, out, in, out. “Anduin. Okay.” The name sounded foreign, but nice, on his lips. It definitely fit the older man.

Anduin smiled at him, and it made him feel warm _everywhere._ With a twinkle in his eye, Lothar spun away, opening the door, and yelled out behind him-

“By the way, your trousers are undone.”

Khadgar cursed in every language he knew as he fixed himself, and ran to catch up with the older man down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment if you loved it!
> 
> My works are not beta read so please point out any grammatical/spelling errors to me so i can fix them ASAP. Thanks!


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